


Laws of Death and Magic

by RedKingKelly



Category: Bleach, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bleach - Freeform, Bleach Manga Spoilers, Bleach pairings undecided, Bleach/Harry Potter Crossover, F/M, Gen, HP pairings canon compliant, Harry Potter - Freeform, If there are any at all, Post-Thousand Year Blood War, Set during Half Blood Prince, Shinigami go to Hogwarts, There is Chaos, Yachiru is a Person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2018-12-11 20:14:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11721735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedKingKelly/pseuds/RedKingKelly
Summary: The Dementor outbreak post-Voldemort's return is affecting the cycle of souls - victims are trapped in limbo; no longer alive, but also not in Soul Society, awaiting reincarnation. The Shinigami decide they must intervene, and of course Urahara has a contact in the magical world. A deal is struck; if the Shinigami will protect his students, Dumbledore will do all he can to help them.





	1. Mission Start

“We have a situation.”

Those, Ichigo thought resignedly, were words that he never wanted to hear coming out of Urahara Kisuke’s mouth. And yet, there they were.

The blond shopkeeper was watching him over his ever-present fan and under his ever-present hat, grey eyes uncharacteristically serious. Ichigo, Chad, Ishida, Inoue, and Kon sat around the table the way that they usually did when something serious was going on.

“Jeez, what is it this time?!” Kon burst out, stuffed limbs flailing wildly. “Not another nutjob trying to take over and/or destroy Soul Society?!”

Urahara fluttered his fan gently in front of his face. “Now that you mention it…” he trailed off.

“WHAT?!” The gathered teenagers and lion plushy cried out.

“Just kidding!” The blond sang, laughing mischievously.

Ichigo growled. “Geta-Boushi…”

“You’re no fun, Kurosaki-san.” Urahara said petulantly.

“Get to the point, Kisuke.” A masculine voice said, as a familiar black cat jumped up onto the table. “Tell them what’s going on.”

“Yoruichi-san!” Ichigo nodded at the cat-woman, similar greetings echoing from his friends. She nodded back, a smile somehow pulling at the corners of her feline mouth.

Urahara finally put his fan away, revealing the pout he’d been hiding behind it. “Fine, fine, Yoruichi-san,” he said. “I’ll get right to it.” The shopkeeper looked straight across the table, grey eyes locking with brown. “Do you believe in magic, Kurosaki-san?”

* * *

 

“Nemu!”

The slender fukataichō popped up out of nowhere, summoned by her father/master’s call. “Yes, Mayuri-sama?”

Kurotsuchi Mayuri peered at his daughter/creation in annoyance. “What have you been doing, stupid girl?”

“Packing, Mayuri-sama.”

“Yes, well, I expect you to be available to me at all times! But anyway,” the Twelfth Division taichō swiveled around in his chair, once again facing his giant screen. “Do you remember everything I told you?”

“Yes, Mayuri-sama.”

“Don’t just say yes! Tell me what your instructions are, fool!”

“Yes, Mayuri-sama. My instructions are to collect as much information about this magic-users and any magical creature as possible, not limited to the Dementors that we have been instructed to eradicate. I am to gather as many samples of this magic as I am capable of, without causing Urahara Kisuke to become suspicious of my actions. I am to capture preferably more than one Dementor and bring them back to you for dissection, without alerting any of my companions. And I am also to find out the exact method of this soul-splitting spell that Tom Riddle has used to prolong his natural lifespan.” Nemu calmly reiterated, hands clasped in their usual position in front of her.

Kurotsuchi’s lips stretched in an unpleasant grin. “Hm. Maybe I won’t have to take you apart after all.”

* * *

 

“Eh?” Zaraki Kenpachi looked down at his tiny fukataichō, who for once was not hanging off of his shoulder. Instead, Yachiru was standing in her formal position a few steps behind him, alongside the other lieutenants.

Yachiru’s big mahogany eyes peered up at him hopefully. “Can I go, please Ken-chan? I want to see the magic people.”

Kenpachi had to admit to being thrown. Yachiru had asked for a lot of things over the years, all of which he had given her, but she had never asked for anything like this. They had never been separated for any length of time ever since she had first crawled up to him all those years ago in the Rukongai. Looking at her, his daughter in all but blood (although he didn’t think that counted; they’d spilled enough of it together, after all), the Zaraki no Oni found himself snorting an agreement. “I volunteer the Eleventh Division Fukataichō.” He said, to which Yachiru let out a happy cheer.

The old man, who was the only person who hadn’t reacted at all to Kenpachi’s announcement (even that prissy Kuchiki’s eyes had widened just a bit) inclined his head in acknowledgement. “It’s decided then. Abarai-fukataichō, Kuchiki-fukataichō, Kurotsuchi-fukataichō and Kusajishi-fukataichō will all accompany Urahara Kisuke and the Shinigami Daiko to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, along with their assorted allies.”

* * *

 

“Ichigo!”

“Guh!” Ichigo grunted at the impact of Ririn’s human gigai slamming into his chest, her short arms wrapping around his waist. He looked bemusedly down at the mod-soul’s blonde head. “Hey, Ririn.”

She backed up quickly, blathering excises that no one believed. She huffed embarrassedly. “Well, anyway! Are you excited for your new mission?”

Ichigo decided not to mention the obvious, abrupt subject change. He shrugged. “I guess. But why’d we have to be put on the protection detail?”

“Because you’re so good at it, Kurosaki-san!” Urahara stuck his head through the doorway, apparently having been listening from the other side. “You in particular don’t have the reiatsu sensing skills needed to be part of the hunting party anyway, and the Sōtaichō doesn’t want to send too many Shinigami; it would risk the secrecy of the existence of Soul Society. That’s why nobody under lieutenant level is coming with us!”

Ririn raised her head proudly. “And that’s why we’re coming! The three of us are going to help make up the manpower to protect the school efficiently.” She gestured at her fellow mod-souls, Kurōdo and Nova, who were also back in their human gigais instead of their plushies. They nodded in confirmation.

“And why Kon’s coming in my human body.” Ichigo realized.

“Indeed!” Urahara chirped brightly.

“So which lieutenants are coming?” Ishida asked, pushing his glasses further up his nose.

“Hmm,” Urahara fluttered his fan for a moment in thought. “I do believe that would be our dear Freeloader-san, Kuchiki-san, young Kusajishi-san, and the female Kurotsuchi-san.”

Ichigo saw Ishida start. “Nemu-san?”

But he had bigger worries than Ishida’s strange relationship with the fukataichō of the Twelfth. “Yachiru’s coming?” He asked, images of the tiny lieutenant wreaking havoc in a school full of magical teenagers dancing through his mind.

Inoue was the only one who looked excited by that news.

* * *

 

“Why the hell am I the one being left behind with all those brats?!” Hiyori demanded, shaking her sandal threateningly at her fellow Visored.

Lisa and Love backed up warily; Hiyori was lethal with those shoes.

“Because you’re probably the best option to keep them in line?” Love suggested.

Hiyori stared, unimpressed. She made a very underwhelming picture; not even five foot, blonde pigtails and freckles on her cheeks, one hand on her hip and the other waving a sandal about in the air. Nonetheless, they both knew that aggravating her even more would not be any fun for either of them. Love internally cursed Shinji and Kisuke, who had been the ones to coordinate and put the plan together. Cowards, leaving him and Lisa to deal with their tiny terror of a friend.

“Oh, come on, Hiyori,” Lisa suddenly said. “You know you’d rather hang around with Ichigo than traipse around Great Britain looking for soul sucking monsters.” That said, she stuck her head back into her perverted manga.

Hiyori frowned. “I guess…” She said slowly. “Those stupid magic monsters sound like shitty hollows. The real fun will be with the berry-bastard at that shitty school!”


	2. Worlds Collide

As the Welcoming Feast drew to a close, Harry sighed. He just wanted to go to bed, but Dumbledore had one more announcement for them.

“I am aware that the last time we had guardians at the school, it did not turn out as well as we had hoped,” the Headmaster was saying.

Harry snorted. What an understatement.

“But,” Dumbledore’s blue eyes seemed to be twinkling even more than usual, even from this distance. “This time I have personally contracted our newest guests, and I believe that they will do a much better job than the Dementors did.”

“Harry,” Hermione whispered next to him. “Did Dumbledore say anything about these guardians when you were with him over the summer?”

Harry shook his head. “Just Slughorn and my lessons.”

Before they could say anything else, Dumbledore was calling for Hogwarts’ newest residents to introduce themselves. And, walking in from the chamber that had been used during the Triwizard Tournament, came the most eclectic group of people that Harry had ever seen in his life. The murmuring that sprang up from the student body told him that everybody else felt the same (and this was coming from _wizards_ ).

In the lead was a mysterious looking blond man, with a green and white striped bucket hat and weird sandal-type shoes, a black cat riding on his shoulder in a somehow dignified way. Behind him were two black haired people; a woman in glasses and a really short skirt, and a man with sunglasses and an afro. Harry didn’t get a good look at the remainder of the group, because the blond man chose then to speak up.

“Hello!”

Harry startled, and felt Ron and Hermione do the same. The man’s cheery voice was completely at odds with his strange appearance.

“My name is Urahara Kisuke- wait, no, it’s Kisuke Urahara.” He smiled sheepishly out at the gathered students.

Hermione nudged him. “I think they’re Japanese,” she told him, as several others snickered at the man seemingly not knowing his own name. “They say their family names first, given names second.”

Trust Hermione to know something like that, Harry thought fondly. But if she was right, how did Dumbledore get them to come all the way over here during a war?

“This,” Kisuke Urahara gestured at the cat on his shoulder. “Is my friend, Yoruichi-san.”

“Japanese honorifics.” Harry heard Hermione mutter. He was too busy wondering if Dumbledore’s friends were just as mad as he was to pay attention.

Of course, he wasn’t thinking that for long.

“Yoruichi Shihōin, at your service.” The cat inclined it’s – _his_ – head in greeting.

 _“What?”_ Ron was gaping, along with about half of Hogwarts’ student body. Even in a world where animagi and owl post existed, talking cats were hard to believe in. Harry chuckled. The muggleborns and half-bloods were taking the shock better than the pure-bloods were.

“I am Lisa Yadōmaru,” the black haired, bespectacled woman stepped forward. “But I won’t be around much, so I won’t be offended if you don’t remember.”

“Love Aikawa. What she said.” The man with the afro nodded and then moved to the back, making way for the rest of the – rather large – group. Harry did some gaping of his own when he noticed that a lot of them were carrying swords. Several also seemed to be wearing what looked like robes, but weren’t.

Another black haired woman stepped forward, this one wearing an absurdly short dress/robe thing, and a completely blank expression on her face. “Nemu Kurotsuchi.”

She was pretty, Harry noted, but not all that approachable.

“I’m Yachiru Kusajishi!” That bright announcement came from a pink haired little girl who couldn’t have been more than six. Was she a metamorphmagus, like Tonks?

A lot of the Gryffindor girls looked to be caught between cooing and protesting. Harry found himself agreeing; she was ridiculously cute, but how was a child supposed to protect them? Why had they allowed her to come into the middle of a war?

That, of course, was when he took notice of the sheathed sword hanging at her side. Was she some kind of child soldier or something? He didn’t have too long to dwell on that uncomfortable thought, because another black haired girl was stepping forward.

“My name is Rukia Kuchiki.” She announced, her dignified stature somehow making her seem taller than she really was. Harry read no nervousness at all in her large grey eyes – actually, so far, none of the new ‘guardians’ had seemed nervous.

A tall man with hair an even more vibrant shade of red than the Weasleys’ stepped forward then, raising a hand in a lazy salute. “Hey. I’m Renji Abarai.” Harry wasn’t entirely sure that his introduction was heard, because the majority of the hall was gaping at his thick, jagged black tattoos.

 _“Cool…”_ Seemed to be the general consensus.

 _“Scary!”_ Was pretty prominent too though.

Ron, Harry was amused to see, was staring in disbelief at Abarai, one hand barely touching his own head. He nudged Hermione, subtly pointing at their friend when she turned to look at him. Her lips curled up in a fond smile, and she shook her head in exasperation.

“Honestly, Ronald,” Hermione said teasingly. “The Weasleys aren’t the only redheads in the world.”

Ron yanked his hand away from his hair, blushing madly. “I know that!” He protested. He would have said more to defend himself, if a short blonde woman hadn’t come stomping to the front of the pack, arms crossed defiantly.

“Name’s Hiyori Sarugaki!” She barked, causing a few students to jump in their seats. Brown eyes glared out at them as she shuffled over to make room for the next set of people.

Next up were a group of teenagers who couldn’t be much older than Harry, maybe around Fred and George’s age. And speaking of Fred and George, it looked like there was pair of twins up there; two identical (although only one was wearing the black robe things and had a _massive_ sword) orange haired boys were frowning at each other. A minute passed in slightly awkward silence before another teenager stepped forward. Harry grinned as he caught the older (?) boy’s eyes roll behind his glasses.

“My name is Uryū Ishida. These two idiots-“ he paused when the twin with the sword elbowed him. “Can introduce themselves.” Ishida seemed to smirk as he allowed the taller boys to push him aside.

“Yo. I’m Ichigo Kurosaki,” the black-clad twin scowled out at the students. “This is Kon.” He jerked his thumb at the other orange haired boy, who, in a complete contrast with Ichigo, smiled and waved cheerily at everybody.

Harry could almost _see_ the younger years placing Ichigo into the ‘scary’ category with Abarai and Sarugaki. The same went for the next teen to step forward, a hulking dark-skinned boy who went by the name of “Yasutora Sado.” Harry noticed quite a few eyebrows go up when the young giant’s voice came out in a soft rumble.

The final teen to step forward was a girl – a very attractive girl. A very, er, _busty_ , girl. Harry, noting the narrow-eyed glare that Hermione was sending Ron’s way, elbowed his friend in the ribs. The redhead broke his gaze away from the Japanese girl with a startled “Huh?” that Harry ignored. He rather thought that Ron would have learned his lesson by now – but then again, a whole summer spent with Fleur Delacour apparently hadn’t taught him anything. So he probably deserved the lecture that he was currently on the receiving end of.

Focusing his attention back on the auburn haired girl who had yet to introduce herself, having paused to allow the outbreak of whispering to die down, Harry had to feel sorry for her. Judging by the deadly expressions on her teenage companions faces, she must get this reaction a lot.

When it was finally silent, the girl smiled brightly, apparently choosing to ignore the last awkward minute. “Hello! My name is Orihime Inoue! It’s nice to meet you all.” She waved cheerily as she moved to stand with the others. A lot of jealous female stares followed her.

“Another child?”

Harry, upon hearing Hermione’s disapproving murmur, shifted his gaze to the final three ‘guardians’. He gaped.

“Hi! I’m Ririn! These two are Kurōdo, and Nova!” There was indeed another young girl standing up there. Thankfully, she appeared to be older than the pink haired girl – Yachiru? – although she couldn’t be older than twelve. Maybe it was hypocritical to think that she shouldn’t be in dangerous situations at twelve years old, but Harry figured that he had extenuating circumstances.

And the two men (at least, he thought they were both men), flanking her had to be two of the strangest looking people Harry had ever seen. Even including all the people he had met in the wizarding world. The one that Harry had dubiously decided was male, looked like some kind of ninja; Nova, according to the little blond girl. He was clad in a black coat with a fur collar, tight black trousers, and strangest of all, a purple mask with a horizontal zip running across it.

The other man (Kurōdo, had she said? Or did she say Claude?), was equally as strange. Mostly because of his multicolored hair; from what Harry could see under the top hat the man was wearing, half of it was black, and half of it was bright yellow. Harry had a sudden vision of these three, looking very out of place, strolling down Privet Drive. He snorted. The Dursleys’ faces would be priceless.

But that was – thankfully – the end of the introductions. Harry slumped in his seat, pushing all thoughts of their mysterious (weird) visitors out of his head for the moment. He just wanted to sleep.

Unfortunately, his return to Gryffindor Tower, and his bed, was delayed once again. The headmaster stood up once more, gesturing at the group of newcomers. “One last thing, and then I promise that you may finally succumb to the call of sleep, which I am sure many of you are hearing.”

 Harry had to grin at that. _‘Too right.’_

“As guardians of this school, and her students, our visitors will be splitting themselves into groups, so as to better keep an eye on all that is going on. So!” Dumbledore clapped his hands together. “From now on, Mister Abarai, Mister Kurosaki, and Miss Inoue will be occupying Gryffindor Tower-“ Harry tuned the rest out, too busy watching the faces of his housemates.

From what he could tell, the guys were thrilled to be hosting the smiling Inoue. Peeking at Hermione from the corner of his eye, Harry gathered that the girls were less than pleased, although a few seemed to be squealing over their male guests. He didn’t quite understand that, when Abarai and Ichigo (the Kurosaki twin that Dumbledore had indicated would be joining the Gryffindors) had been the most intimidating presences only five minutes ago, but Harry didn’t understand much about girls (as evidenced by the fiasco with Cho Chang last year), so he let it slide.

He just hoped that the newcomers wouldn’t end up adding any more trouble to his already full plate.


	3. And So It Begins

“Kisuke!”

The shopkeeper froze in place, foot barely hovering over the ground outside of his new quarters at Hogwarts. He turned his head, immediately spotting the black cat watching him from the front of the fireplace. He sighed, lips drawing up in a fond smile. “I thought you were asleep, Yoruichi-san.”

Yoruichi crept closer, yellow eyes shining in the darkness. “I was. But I also knew that you wouldn’t be able to contain yourself, so I was keeping an ear out.”

Kisuke pouted playfully. “Do you not trust me, Yoruichi-san?”

She snorted, leaping up onto his shoulder with minimal effort. “Not at all.”

“That hurts me,” Kisuke informed her solemnly, already out the door and closing it gently behind him. “Haven’t we been friends for over a century now?”

Sharp claws dug into his skin through multiple layers of cloth. Kisuke hastily brought a hand to his mouth to muffle the yelp that escaped. “Mou, Yoruichi-san,” he whined. “You can be so mean to me sometimes.”

“You deserve it,” she sniffed, completely unapologetic. “Besides, we both know that there’s no point to this sneaking around in the dark. You’re just being nosy.”

Kisuke laughed, strolling down the eerie flame-lit stone corridors with his best friend riding on his shoulder. “Indeed I am, Yoruichi-san,” he admitted easily. “It’s not every day that we get to explore a giant haunted castle, after all.”

The ghosts had been a surprise. Urahara Kisuke had seen many things in his extended lifetime, but actual, no-longer-in-the-flesh ghosts had not been one of them. Although, he took a bit of pride in the fact that his initial reaction had been far less dramatic than those of the younger shinigami, the mod souls, and the human teens. At least he hadn’t drawn his zanpakutō.

“I hope you’re not trying to plant your spy gear, Kisuke,” Yoruichi said reprovingly. “You know that electronics don’t work in such a magically saturated environment.”

He did know that. Which was why he only brought along reiatsu powered devices. Luckily, latent reiatsu and magic didn’t interfere with each other at all; otherwise he really wouldn’t have been able to keep an eye on the entire castle. But Yoruichi already knew that too.

“Don’t worry, Yoruichi-san,” he replied gaily. “I prefer to leave such methods to Aizen-san and Mayuri-san. I’m much more of a hands-on type of person.”

“Right,” Yoruichi drawled dryly. She went on before Kisuke could do more than pout at her. “Do you really think this was a wise idea, Kisuke?”

He knew she wasn’t referring to their nighttime wanderings.

Shrugging – gently, so that Yoruichi wasn’t disturbed by the motion – Kisuke had to admit that this one was a bit beyond him. “I’ve never known the Sōtaichō to voluntarily become involved with human affairs,” he mused aloud. “But I’ve also never known anything to affect the cycle of souls as much as this dementor outbreak has.”

“Which is why he sent only four of his shinigami, and only those that have experience with the Transient World or keeping secrets,” Yoruichi said, a hint of laughter in her masculine voice.

Kisuke’s lips quirked in amusement. Yachiru knew more things about the people in Seireitei than himself and Aizen combined, he was sure. And Kurotsuchi’s lieutenant surely had experience with keeping her mouth shut about certain things.

He meandered down a staircase, smiling giddily when it started moving while he was only halfway down. Yoruichi dug her claws in at the sudden jolt, but Kisuke barely even noticed, too busy enjoying the ride. The moment it stopped, he was moving again, ignoring the fact that he probably wouldn’t be able to remember the way back to their rooms.

Yoruichi would know anyway.

* * *

 

The morning after the students had arrived at Hogwarts was much louder than Ichigo was expecting. At home, it was relatively quiet once he got the usual confrontation with his father out of the way. And the two nights that they had spent at the castle prior to the students’ return hadn’t done anything to prepare Ichigo; after all, it’d only been him, his companions, and the professors.

And the ghosts. Couldn’t forget them, what with the way they kept rising out of the goddamn food at every meal.

On either side of them, where they were seated at the back end of the lion-house table, Inoue and Renji were also looking slightly wide-eyed. Ichigo couldn’t help the way his lip quirked as he watched Inoue’s absentminded munching. Nothing could keep that girl from her food.

“Oi, Ichigo.” Renji nudged him in the ribs.

Ichigo scowled. “What?”

“These damn brats keep staring at us. It’s pissing me off.” Indeed, the redhead’s brows were drawn together in a fierce frown, even as he wolfed down the bacon and eggs in front of him.

Ichigo kinda envied his friends; he couldn’t eat the heavy English food without missing Yuzu’s perfect cooking. The thought of spending a whole year away from his sisters made his heart ache, and the food was just an unwelcome reminder of how long it would be until he saw them again.

“They’re just curious, Abarai-kun,” Inoue said gently. “Maybe we should talk to them?”

Renji eyed the students – kids, younger even than Ichigo’s sisters – nearest to them skeptically. “They’re scared of us.”

“They’re scared of you, you idiot,” Ichigo told him exasperatedly. “You look more like a thug than I do.”

“Haaaahh?” Renji jabbed a finger at the oversized khyber knife on Ichigo’s back. “Who’s the one with the monster blade, here?”

“What’s Zangetsu got to do with anything?!” Ichigo demanded. “It’s not like I’m gonna use it on them!”

Before they could degenerate into an argument, an enthusiastic greeting came from across the table. “Hi there! I-I’m Colin Creevy, this is my brother Dennis! Welcome to Hogwarts!”

Glancing up in surprise, Ichigo took in the younger boys sitting across from them. They were both younger than him, small and slight, with mousy hair and wide eyes. They were smiling though, even if Ichigo could see the nervous tension lining their shoulders.

“Yo,” he greeted, nodding briefly. “I’m Ichigo. Nice to meet you.”

“Renji.” The Shinigami grunted, waving lazily.

Inoue beamed at the brothers, causing a faint red flush to creep up their necks. “Thank you very much! My name is Orihime; it’s nice to meet you!”

As the boys fell into conversation with his bubbly friend, Ichigo took a moment to marvel at the magic that they’d all had worked on them; nobody would be able to tell that most of them couldn’t speak English for shit. Urahara, for some reason, was fluent, and Chad had lived in Mexico, so his English was passable. The rest of the Karakura teens probably could have gotten along alright, with the help of some sign language, but the Shinigami and the mod-souls…

Well, it was lucky that the Headmaster had some kind of magic for translation purposes. Otherwise the poor students would’ve been subjected to Rukia’s crappy drawings.

“Harry! Hey, Harry!” The older brother, Colin, suddenly perked up, waving excitedly at somebody who had probably just entered the Hall behind Ichigo.

“Huh? Oh, morning Colin, Dennis.” A tired sounding voice answered. Ichigo resisted the urge to turn around and see who was speaking.

Wide smiled stretched the brothers’ mouths wide and the younger one gestured excitedly. “D- d’you guys wanna join us?”

“If you all don’t mind, of course!” Colin hastily added, sending mixed pleading and anxious glances at the Karakura teens.

Ichigo shrugged. He didn’t particularly care. Neither did Renji, going by the disinterested grunt he let out (Ichigo wondered if he was finally learning manners; Rukia often kicked him in the head for talking with his mouth full). Inoue, of course, quickly waved her hands and welcomed whoever the Creevy brothers were talking to. “No, no, of course not! Your friends are very welcome to join us!”

“Thank you for the invite.” That was another voice, a girl. “My name is Hermione Granger; it’s nice to meet you all.”

Ichigo watched with interest as a younger girl with bushy brown hair seated herself next to Inoue, and two boys sat opposite her, next to the Creevy brothers, one with red hair and one with black. They were older than the mousy boys, but probably a year or two younger than the Karakura teens.

“Hey,” the black haired kid nodded. “I’m Harry Potter, this is Ron Weasley.” He gestured at his redheaded friend, who had immediately started stuffing his face and could only wave a hello. Ichigo watched as bright green eyes seemed to darken with something when they all introduced themselves again. The kid seemed…

Confused?

Whatever. They were gonna be in this damn school for a whole year – he would figure out what was up eventually.

* * *

 

Kisuke could only chuckle as he watched his favourite little Substitute Shinigami eating breakfast with the child at the center of the war that they had just intruded on. It was absolutely typical that Kurosaki Ichigo and Harry Potter came face to face on the first morning that they were both in the same building. Yoruichi, sitting on his lap up at the teacher’s table, rolled her eyes at him.

“Oh hush, Yoruichi-san,” Kisuke told her, his laughter evident in his voice. “I know you’re appreciating this just as much as I am.”

The professor seated next to him, a dark haired witch that had introduced herself as Aurora Sinistra, glanced over curiously. They had garnered a lot of attention during the first two days that the Shinigami contingent had been at Hogwarts, but so far, nobody had come out and asked anything.

“I apologise if this is rude of me to ask, and of course you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” Sinistra finally said, her voice soft. “But are you an animagus? I’ve never come across a cat that could communicate in human speech before.” Misty blue eyes were locked with Yoruichi’s deep gold ones.

Yoruichi tilted her head, pawing thoughtfully at Kisuke’s leg. He resisted the urge to giggle; it was always funny when Yoruichi’s feline motions weren’t just for show. That was what she got for spending years _(decades)_ at a time in that form – she started to subconsciously act like a real cat.

“I wasn’t aware that animagi could speak in their animal forms,” Yoruichi finally replied. “I’m the only animal I’ve met that can do it.”

Of course, they hadn’t ever met an animagus before. Reading could only give you so much information, after all.

Sinistra’s dark brows furrowed slightly. “They can’t, so far as I know. Minerva had never said anything about it, and she transforms into a cat as well. Unless you’re not an animagus?”

Kisuke chuckled, ruffling his hair ruefully. Maybe they had met an animagus before.

“We didn’t know that,” he said brightly, smiling into the startled witch’s pale eyes. “Maybe Yoruichi-san could make friends with McGonagall-sensei.”

“I’m not an animagus,” Yoruichi spoke, reclaiming Sinistra’s attention as though Kisuke hadn’t said a word. He pouted, choosing to go back to eating his toast and silent listening. “But I might as well be, for all the difference there is between the two techniques, in the end.”

“So you are human, then? Cats haven’t just suddenly gained the ability to speak?” Sinistra looked rather disappointed.

Yoruichi seemed to pause for a moment (though she wasn’t doing anything in the first place), before she leaped across the small gap between Kisuke and Sinistra’s laps. “I am mostly human,” she told the startled professor. “But I quite enjoy a lot of things about being a cat, too.” Butting her head against the delicate fingertips hesitating just an inch away from her head, Yoruichi practically radiated smug satisfaction as their new acquaintance gave in to the temptation and stroked her glossy fur. Kisuke raised his fan to cover his grinning mouth; nobody needed to know just how funny he found this.

The smile on Sinistra’s lips grew bigger as she started scratching at Yoruichi’s ears. “A-are you sure this is alright?” She questioned quietly (though her smile didn’t fade). Yoruichi’s answer came in the form of an impatient head-butt to the hand; such a demanding creature, Kisuke had always said.

But, he supposed it had work out in their favor this time. After all, people were always more willing to pass on information, however harmless it may appear to be, after having engaged in some friendly banter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS. I am aware that the bit about the translation magic is very vague haha. Dw, it's not important, but I'm also not leaving it as hax-magic.


	4. The Start of a Very Long Year

Being at Hogwarts at the same time as the students was shaping up to be a rather aggravating experience, if you asked one Kuchiki Rukia. For one, she hadn’t expected to be sharing living quarters with two of the most, _energetic_ , people that Seireitei had ever seen: Sarugaki Hiyori and Kusajishi Yachiru. For another, Rukia had absolutely not expected the poor attitudes of the magical children.

Rukia – along with Sarugaki and Kusajishi-fukataichō – had been placed in Slytherin house; home to the sly, the cunning, and the ambitious. She hadn’t known it was the House of the Snobs.

She got enough of that in her own home, thank you very much. Maybe coming from the Kuchiki elders, she could grit her teeth and accept it, all the while trying to earn their approval (which she finally had, when she became the lieutenant of the Thirteenth), but Rukia would not take such treatment from self-entitled children.

“Oooiiii, Kuchiki!”

Rukia jerked. Sarugaki, who was seated across from her at the end of the Slytherin table, was right up in her face (basically kneeling on the table to reach, Rukia noted with disapproval), and enormous scowl pulling at her lips. For a moment, Rukia was reminded of Ichigo.

“What is it?” She finally replied, meeting the blonde Visored’s stare head on.

Sarugaki sat back, crossing her arms with a huff. “I _said_ , what are we gonna do about all these little brats? If nobody’s gonna let me kick their asses, I mean.” An evil glint sparked in her brown eyes, and Rukia resisted the urge to answer it with her own smirk. She couldn’t let her own urge for petty revenge take over her; it wouldn’t be befitting of the heir to the Kuchiki clan.

Turning a blind eye to Sarugaki’s scheming, however…

“Ooh! Can I play with them, then?”

At the sound of that high-pitched, mischievous voice, both Rukia and Sarugaki’s heads snapped to the side, where a little pink head had popped up out of nowhere. Kusajishi Yachiru was seated next to Rukia, mahogany eyes wide and mouth stretched in an obscenely massive grin. An evil cackle almost, _almost_ , escaped as Rukia recalled all the havoc that the tiny fukataichō had wreaked back in Seireitei; these damn kids wouldn’t even know what hit them. Catching Sarugaki’s eye over the table, Rukia inclined her head, just the tiniest bit. The older woman wouldn’t know it, having been exiled long before Zaraki and Kusajishi joined the Gotei Thirteen, but she had just gained the support of one of Soul Society’s most sneaky, vindictive shinigami.

Things were about to get interesting.

* * *

 

The Hogwarts library, Kurotsuchi Nemu decided, would probably only go so far in aiding her with her individual missions. In regards to her information gathering on magical creatures and magic in general, it was a treasure trove; everything she needed to know, conveniently gathered in one place. However, Nemu rather doubted that she would find anything helpful in her Tom Riddle investigation here.

Nemu wasn’t one to get overly-emotional about things (or feel much emotion at all, really), but even she was feeling the tiniest bit daunted by the task that Mayuri-sama had set her. The Gotei Thirteen hadn’t even been aware that Riddle was using some form of soul magic to keep himself in the living realm, not until the dementor outbreak had brought their attention to the western half of the transient world. In fact, they only became aware when Urahara Kisuke’s contact chose to inform them.

It had aggravated Mayuri-sama to no end, that a human had the upper-hand in this situation (although the fact that he would be receiving new dissection samples had cheered him up significantly). Nemu was rather glad that the dementors appeared to be relatively easy to find; sending a few through to Mayuri-sama would distract him enough for her to be able to make acceptable progress on the Riddle front.

* * *

 

Ishida Uryū couldn’t quite recall the moment where he went certifiably insane, but he had no doubt that Kurosaki had been somehow involved.

How else would he have ended up attending a school that was straight out of the imagination of a child, for an entire year?

The bespectacled quincy sighed quietly into his breakfast. He, along with Sado and Kurosaki’s annoying body double had been placed in the Ravenclaw house. It was quite nice to be surrounded by intelligent conversation for once, but Uryū couldn’t deny that it was somewhat irritating having to fend off the curious questions about who they were, and where they had come from.

Having to keep Kon in line just made everything all the more stressful. Why did the idiotic mod-soul have to come along in the first place?

There was an upside though; he wouldn’t have to deal with Ryūken for a year. That was more than enough motivation to stay in this insanely impossible castle.

Although he was resentful about missing his last year at high school. Doing it through correspondence was not at all the same as actually being in a classroom. And anyway, Uryū was supposed to be doing a job. It was going to be beyond annoying, having to keep up with his schoolwork as well as watching over the castle and its inhabitants (not that Uryū doubted his ability to do it; he was simply put out by the necessity).

“You think too hard, Ishida,” Kon, stuffing his face across the table from Uryū, paused in his eating to point at him accusingly. “I can feel your brain going in circles from here, and it’s giving me a headache.”

Uryū glared. “I don’t want to hear that from you, Kurosaki.” He paused when he remembered that he was not, in fact, talking to Kurosaki Ichigo, but rather a modified soul inhabiting his human body. After a moment of consideration though, Uryū decided that it was still Kurosaki’s body, and so still correct. Kon was masquerading as Ichigo’s twin anyway, so it was fine.

They were also both idiots, so really, the statement applied to Kon too.

“Well, it’s true!” The mod-soul raised his hands defensively. “You need to loosen up! We’re in a freaking magical castle right now; shouldn’t your nerdy ass be more excited or whatever?”

Before Uryū could utter a word in reply, one of the nearby students cut in. “Excuse me,” he said, curiosity painted over his elfin features. “I apologise for eavesdropping, but I couldn’t help overhearing really, and I was just wondering if you were all muggle-born?” The boy couldn’t have been much younger than Uryū himself – three years at the most – and he had very earnest green eyes.

Kon waved his hand, grinning. “Don’t worry about it kid,” he told the boy. “Eavesdropping ain’t a crime.”

A pale pink blush stained the boy’s cheeks. “I didn’t mean to…” He drifted off, ducking his head embarrassedly. Uryū sighed internally.

“This one time only, listen to the idiot,” he told the wizard boy, ignoring Kon’s affronted protests. “You could hardly help hearing, sitting right next to us. And to answer your question, no, we are not all muggleborn-“ there was a negligible pause as Uryū stumbled over the foreign word, but he continued on without anybody taking notice. “But not all of us are accustomed to this type of grandeur, or this scale of magic.”

“Oh.” The younger boy seemed to mull it over, and Uryū could have killed Urahara (who had been the one to split the Karakura/Seireitei contingent between the houses). _Why_ had he been placed in the house most likely to take interest in their cover story? Sado wasn’t very approachable in the wizarding children’s eyes, and Kon was an idiot who might spill too much, so Uryū was going to have to be the one dealing with their questions. “I had heard that the Japanese magical community was very different to Britain’s. I am sorry for assuming.” Green eyes disappeared from view as the boy – Uryū should probably ask his name – looked down at his lap.

Heaving another internal sigh, Uryū wondered if it was too late to back out. Nobody told him that he would have to juggle their _feelings_ along with their curiosity. “What is your name?” He asked brusquely.

“W-what?”

“What. Is. Your. Name?”

The boy blinked furiously, shaking his head a little. “Oh! I’m so sorry, I never even introduced myself! I remember all of your names, of course, but I’m Gabriel Everett. It’s nice to meet you.” He smiled shyly.

“Right, Everett-san. Do not worry about offending us; we came here expecting questions to be asked. Just be aware that we may not always be able to answer those questions.” He smiled – or tried to, anyway – at Everett, noticing with relief the way the kid relaxed at his words.

 Insanity. It was the only possible reason that he would have accepted this mission.

_Damn that Kurosaki._

* * *

 

“Good morning, Kurōdo, Nova.” Ririn approached her male companions, seated at the Hufflepuff table, arm in arm with another girl who looked to be the same age as her gigai. “This is Madison Blake. She’s offered to show me around a little after breakfast.”

The girl, Madison, waved her free hand shyly. “You can call me Maddie, if you want. It’s nice to meet you.” She smiled.

Nova zipped his face mask shut. Kurōdo waved elegantly (dramatically) back. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Maddie-san. Please excuse Nova, he doesn’t do well with women.” The masked mod-soul nodded, raising his hand in some kind of awkwardly apologetic greeting.

Maddie giggled. “I’m only twelve! But it’s okay. Does that mean you two don’t want to come exploring with us then?”

“Oh no, they have something to do today, Maddie-chan. It’ll just be you and me.” Ririn smiled at her new friend, conveniently leaving out the fact that she was supposed to be helping her fellow mod-souls with that ‘something’. “Unless you wanted to invite someone?”

Dark curls bounced adorably as Maddie shook her head. “No, it’s fine, I’m happy for it to be just us. Let’s eat quickly though, we’ll have more time before I have to go to class.”

The two girls seated themselves beside the older males, and quickly became absorbed in their own chatter. Nova, thankfully separated from them by Kurōdo, unzipped his mask and wolfed down his own breakfast, waving a speedy goodbye as he departed for the library. Researching soul-sucking monsters was the preferable option for the poor guy, Ririn noted amusedly. She hadn’t known that Nova’s issues with women extended to all females; he’d never had a problem with her or Ururu.

After breakfast, Maddie led Ririn back down to the lower levels, close to where the Hufflepuff common room was located. “It’s supposed to be a secret,” she was telling Ririn amusedly. “But everybody in Hufflepuff knows, and we’re all sure the Weasley twins did too, when they were here.” Ririn didn’t know who the Weasley twins were, but she had no time to ask because Maddie was tickling a painting (a painting!) and that painting had just sprouted a door handle.

Even after having been here for two days, Ririn still could not wrap her mind around the sheer _randomness_ of the magic users. Not to mention the sheer insanity that happened on a daily basis; trick stairs that were sometimes there and sometimes not, suits of armour that appeared to be inanimate and yet _felt_ unmistakeably present to Ririn’s reiatsu senses, portraits with subjects that spoke and interacted with those _outside_ of their frames… It was a shockingly different sort of madness to life in Karakura. She wondered how long it would take for Ichigo and his friends to infect the place with their own brand of crazy.

Ririn would bet anything on the answer being ‘less than a week’.

She would win.

* * *

 

Yadōmaru Lisa could honestly say that she hadn’t taken much notice of her magical surroundings. She had a job to do; she was going to get it done, and then hurry up and go home to Karakura. _Where_ the Sōtaichō got off, ordering her around as if he hadn’t sentenced her to death over a century ago…

She chose to ignore the fact that she was doing it as a favour to Shinji.

“Hey, Lisa.”

Turquoise eyes flicked up from the book they had been focused on. “Hm?”

Love smirked at her. She fought the urge to smack him; that look had led to many a spoiler in the time they had lived together. Asshole. What kind of person found enjoyment in ruining books for people? Although, to be honest, she would actually kind of appreciate it if he could tell her the ending of _this_ book. For such grim subject matter, it was a very dry read. The only redeeming factor was the moving images.

They – Lisa, Love, and the two mod-souls, Kurōdo and Nova – were holed up in the library, doing research on the creatures they had come to eradicate, and the wizarding war they would be sticking their noses into with said eradication. So far, Lisa hadn’t liked what they’d found. Kisuke had given them a _very_ basic rundown, but the parts that he’d left out were infuriatingly familiar.

The discrimination against those considered to be ‘impure’ ran even more rampant here than it did in Seireitei. Lisa wasn’t particularly inclined to playing the hero – that was more Ichigo’s shtick. However, she _was_ inclined toward the annihilation of mass-murdering megalomaniacs, and so Lisa made up her mind right then and there; she wasn’t going to leave this godforsaken country until Tom Riddle’s ass was roasting in hell.

Love, who still hadn’t got around to saying whatever it was he wanted to say, decided that it could probably wait. The fire burning in his fellow Visored’s eyes had made him a little wary of pissing her off today. Maybe they should send her off after the Dementors immediately; it really seemed like she had a lot of aggression to get out of her system. He would suggest it to Kisuke the next time Love saw him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS. Okay, I feel the need to clear some things up. This is set post Blood War for Bleach, but I came to that conclusion after already writing/posting a couple of chapters, and tbh I just couldn't be bothered editing every little thing. So Lisa is cursing the 'old man' which WAS Yama-jii, but is now Kyouraku, who allowed Yama-jii to sentence the Visored to death. Also, it's only been a couple months since the end of the Blood War, so she hasn't been made Captain of the Eight yet.


	5. Making Connections

“Alright everybody, field-trip time!”

Ichigo’s scowl deepened. It was mid-afternoon on the first school day, and they had all been summoned to Urahara and Yoruichi’s quarters. He didn’t know why Urahara had bothered gathering every single one of them together; _he_ wasn’t going on this field trip. Urahara, Yoruichi, Lisa, Love, Nemu, Ririn, Nova, and Kurōdo were all leaving the castle, to go on some kind of research trip to a _prison_ , and they were leaving everyone else behind. Annoying. Ichigo wasn’t made to sit around doing nothing while other people did the dirty work.

Glancing over at Renji, Ichigo could tell that his friend felt the same way; there was impatience in his stance, even if it didn’t show on his face. Heh. Being Byakuya’s fukataichō, Renji had a lot of practise at holding his tongue.

Chad, who was silently towering behind Ichigo, nudged him. When Ichigo turned in response, he nodded subtly in the direction of the girls who were staying behind – Rukia, Inoue, Hiyori, and Yachiru. Ichigo snorted. While Rukia and Inoue were being their (relatively) normal selves, chatting away like always, Hiyori and Yachiru were Not Pleased. And they wanted the world to know.

Hiyori stood, arms akimbo and feet planted widely, glaring with laser-focus at the older Shinigami. There was a ferocious snarl tugging at her lips - it was a very familiar indication that the shortest Visored was about to go _off._ Love and Lisa were definitely avoiding looking her in the eye, although Urahara seemed to take great delight in smiling at her over his fan. Ichigo gave it two minutes before Geta-Boushi got a face full of Hiyori’s sandals (still connected to her feet or not).

Yachiru, on the other hand, was smiling. And it was terrifying. The sheer evil glowing in her eyes was almost like a reiatsu cloak in itself. Ikkaku’s wariness of his superior officer was suddenly making a lot more sense; Ichigo had always known the childlike fukataichō was powerful. But he hadn’t ever considered her intimidating until now.

“Now, now, don’t be jealous~” Urahara said, shaking his head at them all. “You’ll all get a chance to get out and stretch your legs at _some_ point.”

Yoruichi, currently in human form, smirked. “This _is_ a guarding assignment, you know. So, guard.”

Yachiru hissed.

The shapeshifter just laughed and ignored her, stepping without pause out of her gigai and catching it before it could hit the floor. “You guys will have free reign of the castle while we’re gone,” she spoke mischievously. “Don’t blow it up, ne?”

The resulting grin on Yachiru’s face was even more worrisome than her previous smile. It got even worse when Hiyori’s face slowly shifted to match the pink haired girl’s. He dearly wanted to know why Urahara had thought it would be a good idea to put them in the same house together. Rukia had told him that the kids in Slytherin were a snobby bunch that pissed the three of them of them off so much that she’d given the other two her blessing to fuck around with them. Ichigo didn’t think the castle could withstand what the two of them would get up to, held together by magic or not.

He suddenly felt a lot less annoyed and a lot more wary about being left behind.

* * *

 

After leaving the research party to ready themselves in Urahara and Yoruichi’s quarters, most of the guarding unit made their way down to sit by the lake. Kusajishi and Sarugaki had wandered off, probably brainstorming chaos. Kon too had disappeared; Renji didn’t know where, but he had a feeling it involved girls. Hopefully the mod-soul didn’t do anything _too_ stupid; Ichigo would definitely kill him for using his body to do it. The rest of them were relaxing, taking some time to catch each other up on their first night back with the students. Ishida, Sado, and Ichigo were all leaning with their backs against the same gigantic tree (they weren’t quite on the same side, but they weren’t exactly facing opposite directions either), and Renji himself was laying on his back in the gap between Ichigo and Ishida’s legs. He was content to chill there, contemplating their mission and basking in the warmth of his friends’ reiatsu.

A splash, and a gasp of delight from Inoue caught Renji’s attention. He sat up, eyes going straight to the two girls who were standing at the lakes edge. He stared.

There was a tentacle (a _tentacle_!), reaching out of the water, way too huge to belong to any normal creature, and Inoue was _stroking it_. Renji quickly rubbed a hand across his eyes, sure he was imagining things. Nope. He blinked in disbelief, watching the orange haired girl smile and pet the gargantuan thing, with Rukia eyeing it sceptically beside her.

“Ichigo.”

The teenager hummed.

“Your friend is crazy.”

Ichigo huffed out a laugh. “I know. I don’t even know what that thing is.”

“It’s a giant squid.” Ishida said it as though it should have been obvious.

“So, we’re supposed to be guarding a _school_ that has crazy things like that on the grounds.” Renji said doubtfully.

Sado spoke up then, words coming out as a soft rumble. “Don’t forget whatever’s in that Forbidden Forest.”

Ah, yes. What kind of school didn’t have a massive forest full of deadly creatures in it, after all?

 **“ _WHAT THE HELL KIND OF PLACE IS THIS?!”_** Renji roared, shattering the serene atmosphere that had settled around them. He sat up, looking all kinds of aggravated. “These magic-users are insane!”

Rukia, who had dragged a disappointed Inoue back to the group (Renji having scared the squid away with his shouting), cackled. “I wondered when one of you would end up losing your mind,” she said. “Such fragile imaginations.”

Renji and Ichigo snorted in unison. It didn’t seem like much of an insult coming from Kuchiki ‘I can’t draw anything but deformed rabbits’ Rukia.

She side-eyed them, but said nothing. Instead, she seated herself elegantly at Ichigo and Sado’s feet, pulling Inoue down with her. There was a serious look on her face that made Renji’s spine straighten; this was Rukia as Kuchiki-fukataichō. He took a moment to be _so fucking proud_ of how far she had come from that hungry little brat in the Rukongai; how far _both_ of them had come. Watching her now, straight-backed and all regal looking, he could hardly contain the fierce rush of pride that went through him. That was _his_ best friend.

“So,” Rukia started. “Does anybody have anything of note to report?”

There was no formal chain of command among them; Urahara was obviously in charge, and would receive any information they discovered as well as giving out orders, but otherwise, the rest of them were free to do as they pleased (within mission parameters, of course). Everybody had informally decided that sharing and discussing everything between themselves was probably the best course of action. With the kind of chaos that this particular group was capable of, Renji figured that it was the safest bet.

Ishida raised a hand. “At breakfast this morning, I told one student that we would not be able to answer every single one of their questions about us. Almost the entire house has been made aware of it already.”

Ichigo nodded. “Same here. We had a bunch of kids eating with us this morning, and they asked a _lot_ of questions. Renji told them most of it was classified.”

It wasn’t all that effective, Renji admitted to himself, thinking back to breakfast time. That brunette girl, Granger, was way too curious for her own good. Her and her little sidekicks had acted polite about backing off with the inquisition, but he’d seen that spark in their eyes that told him they hadn’t given up on finding answers. Heh.

He wished them luck; there was no written account of Shinigami existing in the Transient World. As far as Renji knew, out of all the denizens of Soul Society as a whole, only those of the Gotei Thirteen ever actually _left_ on a somewhat regular basis. The Sōtaichō’s historical organising of Seireitei and Shinigami only applied to _their_ area of the afterlife. Past the Rukongai, there was only misty-ocean shit, which Renji had never seen, much less travelled past, and so his knowledge was limited to what the oldest, strongest, Shinigami had deigned to pass on as history lessons. They all said pretty much the same thing; nobody else gave a fuck about the Living World. The Asian-centred Shinigami were the only ones who bothered to descend and assist the lost Plus souls on their way to Soul Society.

There was a lot more, but all Renji really cared about was the fact that those nosy kids were going to be absolutely, one hundred per-cent stumped. He snickered internally, careful not to interrupt Rukia’s meeting, lest she decide to kick him in the face. He was going to have _so much fun_ with the magic kids this year.

* * *

 

Walking the desolate halls of Azkaban Prison, Urahara Kisuke shared a grim look with his best friend. Even with the Dementors gone, the place still had an atmosphere of pure despair and hopelessness. If even the leftover ambiance could bring back to mind memories that Kisuke had been suppressing for decades on end, then he dreaded to think of what would happen once they actually found the creatures. For all that they were both soul-devouring monsters, the Dementors certainly had a leg up on Hollows when it came to the intimidation factor.

“Tch.” Lisa scoffed in disgust. “These wizards… what were they _thinking_ , using those things as guards for human beings?” Despite her tone, she was walking much closer to Love’s side than she normally would have. Nobody said anything about it; four of the five Shinigami were as equally on edge as she was.

Nemu, the only one seemingly unaffected, tipped her head. “Is it worse than Muken, would you say?”

Ooh. That was a good question. Muken, the absolute lowest level of prison in Seireitei, was essentially an abyss of nothingness. The thought of being stuck there for the rest of eternity made Kisuke want to crawl out of his skin. Alone in the darkness, nothing but his own thoughts for company… He would rather die. But, would an eternity with the Dementors be in any way preferable?

Kisuke thought not. He spent quite enough time on his own, thinking about all of his past mistakes. The idea of being forced to relive them again and again for the rest of forever was torturous. The only thing worse would be if the Dementors had occupied Muken instead of Azkaban. At least here on this pitiful rock you could tell that you were not alone (although whether you would be sane enough to be truly aware of it was another matter entirely).

Love said as much out loud, visibly shuddering. The three mod-souls, who he was carrying in their plushy forms underneath an invisibility cloak, patted his arms comfortingly. Kisuke smothered a smile – his creations were so adorable.

“Inhumane prisons aside,” Yoruichi, slinking along beside him in human form, spoke up. “Are you three picking anything up?” This was aimed at the mod-souls, who had been brought along specifically for their sensory abilities.

Ririn nodded. “It’s not the same as reiatsu, but it is something I can definitely track.” Her little bird beak appeared to turn down at the corners. “It’s unforgettable.”

“Indeed,” Kurōdo shuddered. “It is a distinctly unpleasant feeling.”

That, Kisuke thought wryly, was a tad bit of an understatement. Clapping his hands together once, he brought the party to a halt. “Unless there is something I am forgetting, I believe that our purpose here has been served, yes?”

A chorus of murmured agreements answered him. The samples of residual magic that Nemu had taken would suffice for now, and it wasn’t as though they couldn’t come back. Satisfied with the day’s work, Kisuke produced the ‘portkey’ that Dumbledore had provided for them, that would return the group to Hogsmeade. None of his companions looked particularly impressed with the red and gold scarf in his hand, but Kisuke just chuckled. Although he couldn’t deny how unpleasant it felt, he was still fascinated by the magic, and the fact that you didn’t actually have to be _magical_ to use it ( _supernatural_ , perhaps?).

“Don’t worry~” Kisuke cooed as everybody grabbed a hold of the fabric. “As a reward for our hard work, we can stop for a break and a drink in Hogsmeade before we go back to the school. Maybe pick up some treats for our hardworking little guards too.”

The last thing he saw before the world was whipped away, was Yoruichi’s laughing golden eyes.

* * *

 

Inoue Orihime was having a rather good time at Hogwarts so far. Everything was so interesting; the people, the ghosts, the food… In fact, her only regret was that she couldn’t tell Tatsuki-chan about any of it.

The thought of keeping even more things from her best friend made Orihime want to cry. Even though Tatsuki-chan had more reiatsu now, and knew some things about all her adventures in Soul Society, this one was something she could never know the details of.

It _was_ pretty cool that she could send her letters by owl though.

“Excuse me,” an unfamiliar voice spoke up, jolting Orihime out of her thoughts. She spun around, at once realising that she had no idea where she was, or how she had got there. And that there was a girl standing in front of her, wearing the most amazing pair of spectacles that Orihime had ever seen in her life. “I couldn’t help but notice, that you are remarkably clear of wrackspurts. Do you mind me asking how you keep them away?”

Mesmerised by the colourful frames on the blonde girl’s face, Orihime hummed something like approval, although she had no idea what was being asked of her. What was a wrackspurt? A type of pudding, maybe?

The girl laughed, sliding her spectacles to the top of her head. The revealed silvery grey eyes were dancing with good humour. “Wrackspurts would make an absolutely awful pudding, I’m afraid,” she said solemnly. “They’re a type of magical creature that floats around, invisible, interfering with people’s thoughts. These,” she tapped her specs. “Allow me to see them.”

Orihime clapped her hands together delightedly. “That’s amazing!” She gushed. “Functional _and_ pretty!”

Something softened in the girl’s face then. “Thank you for saying so,” she said, smiling gently. “My name is Luna Lovegood. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Oh!” Orihime flung herself into a bow, returning Luna’s smile with a bright one of her own once she’d straightened up. “My name is Orihime Inoue, it’s nice to meet you too, Lovegood-san.”

“Oh, just Luna is fine, Miss Inoue. How are you settling in at Hogwarts?” The two girls naturally started walking again, with no real direction. Orihime – who had insisted on being called by just her name in return for calling Luna by hers – found herself chattering just as freely with Luna as she did with Tatsuki-chan. She was a very good listener, and a very interesting person to talk with, and Orihime was suddenly very glad that she had come to Hogwarts. Because even though she missed Tatsuki-chan so very much, Orihime was pretty sure that Luna was going to become one of her extremely precious friends, and she wouldn’t have missed that for the world.


	6. Things Start to Move

Hermione Granger had rarely been so frustrated with the Hogwarts library (or any library at all, really). Ever since the first day of term, when they had sat down to breakfast with the Creevy brothers and the triad of guards based in Gryffindor tower, she had been _attempting_ to find any sort of information about them.

She had been less than successful.

The lack of information, along with her usual class workload, prefect duties, keeping on top of Death Eater activity, and Harry’s insistence on blindly trusting the instructions of the so-called ‘Half-Blood Prince’, had Hermione almost ready to tear her hair out. It wasn’t that she was suspicious of them; the Gryffindor set were nice enough, and they had been very straightforward about telling the students that most of what they wanted to know was classified. It being wartime and having been exposed to the goings on of the Order, Hermione could understand the need for secrecy (she was, quite honestly, surprised that _Harry_ wasn’t more suspicious/nosy though).

The curiosity was just killing her. As a whole, the group of Japanese protectors was a strange mix of people, not even including the fact that two of the members were children. Most them carried swords – Ichigo even carried two, although his twin was among those that had none – and Hermione couldn’t recall ever seeing any of them holding a wand. She actually wasn’t certain that they had ever performed traditional magic in the castle at all, although they had all seen Yachiru scampering around _in thin air._ Several of the others had done it too, to avoid the hoards of students in the hallways, but the little pink-haired girl did it the most. Hermione hadn’t ever read anything that could explain how she did it.

“Ne, Granger-san, that’s a very serious look you’ve got on your face.”

Startled, Hermione looked up from the book that she hadn’t really been reading and met the smiling face of Orihime Inoue. “Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you were here.” She closed her book, placing it on the table in front of her; she had been attempting to study in the Gryffindor common room, before being distracted by her thoughts. Inoue had settled herself in one of the other armchairs around the table and was peering curiously over the pile of books that Hermione had spread over it. She had to admit, even just to herself, that the older girl really was very cute (even discounting her impossible figure); watching her now, Hermione found herself endeared for no real reason except that Inoue simply felt _genuine_.

“It’s okay,” Inoue told her, still smiling. “You looked very deep in thought, so I just wanted to ask if you needed help with anything!”

_‘Genuine indeed.’_

Hermione smiled back, waving her off. “Thank you, Inoue-san, but it’s okay. Honestly, there’s just a lot going on this year and I’m trying to keep on top of everything.” If only one or two of the things clogging up her brain space could just be resolved, it would make her feel a lot better _(hint bloody hint, Harry)_.

Putting a finger to her cheek and tilting her head in thought, Inoue said “You know, Granger-san, you’re the only person here who uses the honorifics when you’re talking to us. It’s very nice of you, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”  

Warmth filled her cheeks at the kind look the older girl gave her. At the same time though, she felt a little disbelieving. The only person? In the whole school? “It’s no problem to me,” Hermione responded truthfully. “It’s only polite. But am I really the only one? Not even Professor Dumbledore…?”

Inoue shook her head. “Dumbledore-sensei uses the English versions, like miss and mister. But it’s really fine, Granger-san! We don’t think any of you are rude for not using them. Actually, you can call me Orihime, if you want!” Bright grey eyes shone with sincerity.

Finding herself incapable of refusing, Hermione just nodded. “Orihime then. And of course, you can just call me Hermione as well. If you want.”

The other girl cheered. “It’s so nice to make new friends, isn’t it? I’m so lucky that I got to come here~”

Friends. Pleasure thrummed through her veins at Orihime’s casual declaration. Maybe she wasn’t the same lonely little girl that she had been all those years ago, when Harry and Ron saved her from that troll, but it still made Hermione’s heart spasm a little, to know that there _were_ people out there who would want to be friends with the bossy, bushy-haired little bookworm. And another girl at that; in her entire life, she had only ever made real friends with two other girls – Ginny and Luna.

Speaking of…

“Hey, Orihime? How did you make friends with Luna?” The two of them had caused quite a stir at dinner on the first day, when Orihime had called out – loudly – to the Ravenclaw girl across the Great Hall. Shocked muttering had broken out among the students, but neither girl seemed to notice, waving at each other perfectly happily. The surprised but pleased looks on Harry and Ginny’s faces had been almost identical, Hermione remembered with amusement.

“Luna-chan?” Orihime’s entire face brightened. “She wanted to know how I kept the Wrackspurts away!”

Stifling a sigh, Hermione could only shake her head with fond exasperation.

Of course she did.

* * *

 

Meanwhile, down in the Slytherin common room…

“Ne, Hiyorin!”

“ _WHO DO YOU THINK YOU’RE CALLING HIYORIN, YOU BRAT?!”_

Yet another extremely loud, extremely pointless argument was going on between the blonde-haired woman and the pink-haired child of the Japanese guards. The black-haired one, Daphne Greengrass noted with cool amusement, was seated in the armchair next to them, serenely reading the newspaper and sipping on tea. She was the only one who seemed not to notice the cacophonous bickering of her companions – most of the students had given up long ago and retired to their dorm rooms.

This whole charade had been going on for four days now; every evening, students would be attempting to study or socialise in the common room, and eventually, without fail, something would be said to offend one of their guards – prompting the immediate increase in volume and level of disturbance. Daphne despaired of her fellow Slytherins. If only they would learn to _shut up_ , then this wouldn’t need to happen every single day. Silencing charms had been attempted, but the two screaming females had simply danced around them ( _colourless spells_ ), with not a single break in their argument.

What was truly surprising though – it was yet to be Draco or Pansy who caused the cacophony. The two ring-leaders of the Slytherin sixth-years were being suspiciously low-key this year. True, they still swanned about as though they owned the place, but. It was a silent sort of posturing, with much less trash-talk and significantly more _‘I have a secret that makes me special, wouldn’t you like to know what it is, peasants’_ type expressions. Really, that boy knew no subtlety.

_“YOU’RE ANNOYING! GO HOME!”_

“Ahaha! But I’m having fun here, Hiyorin!”

“What’s so fun about watching these brats?!”

 _‘Annoying the shit out of them’_ Daphne thought privately. She had the sinking feeling that if her housemates couldn’t get their act together soon, the antics of their Japanese guests would only get worse.

Her hopes were not high.

* * *

 

Urahara Kisuke and Albus Dumbledore were staring into each other’s eyes and had been for going on four minutes now. Yoruichi would know, she’d been counting.

Dumbledore’s blue eyes were still twinkling brightly with amusement, and she was well aware that Kisuke was smiling slyly behind his fan. It was highly entertaining to the shapeshifter, but she was starting to get impatient. How much longer was this pissing contest going to go on?

Luckily, the two men simultaneously blinked and chuckled, turning their heads to the black cat sitting primly on the Headmaster’s desk. “Done?” She asked, somehow giving the impression that she’d raised an eyebrow.

Dumbledore chuckled again. “Indeed. And now on to the purpose of this meeting; I have something of a dilemma, and I would like to ask your opinions on it.”

“Oh?” Kisuke fluttered his fan slowly in front of him. “Do tell.”

“It relates to the story I previously told you, concerning Tom Riddle and his desperate methods of obtaining immortality.” The old man’s face was wreathed in age-old sadness and disappointment. “I had left certain details out during the telling, but I must admit to being troubled deeply by this.”

Yoruichi’s whiskers twitched as she frowned. “Troubled enough to ask us for help on something that we already promised we would not unnecessarily interfere with?” Well, she and Kisuke had promised. Kurotsuchi Mayuri had not, and so Yoruichi was keeping a close eye on his daughter.

It was a strange situation, what Dumbledore was talking about. Tom Riddle, the idiotic child currently attempting to take over the world or some such nonsense, had managed to complete a ritual that tore his own soul into pieces, to be essentially used as backups should the part still in his body be killed. Yoruichi couldn’t fathom what kind of thought process – or lack thereof – the boy had gone through to make such a stupid decision, but. He had done it, and so he would reap the consequences.

If the wizards couldn’t take care of their Dark Lord, the Shinigami would do it for them.

“You promised unnecessary interference.” Dumbledore said solemnly. “There is only one solution to this problem that I can think of, and I would very much like for it not to be necessary.”

Kisuke blinked guilelessly. “I was under the impression that the whole thing was rather straightforward.” He paused for a second. “After locating the things, of course.” What he didn’t say, but Yoruichi knew he was thinking, was that locating the ‘horcruxes’ wouldn’t be that much of a difficulty either. Not for them.

“Oh, it is, for the most part.” Dumbledore assured them. “There are only a few, very specific, methods of destroying horcruxes, but I am fortunate enough to have the means for several of them. No, the problem is that there is one more horcrux that I did not tell you about, and I would really rather that this one not be damaged.”

Yoruichi saw Kisuke’s grey eyes brighten in realisation at the exact moment that a lightbulb lit up in her own brain.

“It’s the boy,” Kisuke said it, the sick delight in his voice audible only to his best friend. “Your Dark Lord accidentally attached a part of his fragile soul to the child he couldn’t kill.”

What wonderful irony.

Dumbledore inclined his head, sorrow lining his face like it belonged there. “You are correct. I had only speculated, but the events of last year made it clear to me that a small piece of Tom’s soul was dwelling in young Harry. As for how, I can only assume that the rebounding killing curse was at fault; Tom certainly would never have done it on purpose.” He looked as though the weight of the world was resting on his old shoulders.

Yoruichi supposed it was, in a way.

The thing about wars, was that the responsibility always seemed to end up in the hands of a specific few, whether by default or outside influence. She would always feel some guilt, way deep down inside her soul, for helping Kisuke involve Ichigo in the Gotei Thirteen’s mess. After the plot to destroy Kisuke’s hōgyoku had failed, Ichigo became the only one able to defeat Aizen: Yoruichi couldn’t regret it, not when he had succeeded in bringing the megalomaniac down. But she did feel bad for dragging the kid into the dangerous life he now led.

Kisuke hummed, drawing the shapeshifter’s thoughts back to the present. “You’re in luck, Headmaster.” He grinned, snapping his fan closed. “Yoruichi-san and myself are very well versed in dealing with souls and things that don’t belong there. Your boy is in safe hands.”

The gleam in his grey eyes probably wasn’t very reassuring.

* * *

 

“What do you think, Lucius?”

His Lord’s sibilant voice was almost a physical feeling, slithering around his neck and tightening, the words seemingly spoken right into his ear, although they were three feet apart. Lucius, who stood behind him and could only see his back, outlined by the sunlight coming through the window he was looking out of, withheld the shiver that that voice so often evoked in him and replied. “I do not know where Dumbledore pulled these so-called ‘guardians’ from, but it matters not, my Lord. Draco will fulfil his mission, and Hogwarts will be yours by the end of the year.”

The reports coming in from those with children attending Hogwarts all said the same thing: Dumbledore had hired a large group of mysterious strangers to protect the castle. It couldn’t be said for sure why he had done it – as a general precautionary measure? Because he had an idea of the Dark Lord’s plan?

Lucius personally thought that it was a mixture of both, although he hadn’t done so during the last war. But having extra security during wartime only made sense. Dumbledore was also a shrewd old man; Lucius suspected that he knew that Lord Voldemort would make an attempt on the school at some point.

He would never suspect one of his own precious students though.

“I hope so, Lucius.” His Lord turned to face him, cold red eyes sending a tendril of terror down his spine. “Both of you know the consequences that young Draco will face if he fails me in this.”

“He won’t fail, my Lord.” Lucius said, resolution weighing him down like an anchor.

  _‘He can’t.’_


End file.
